


Need a Hand

by Forest_Girl



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Amputation, Blacking Out, Dante and Nico have very minor roles in this, Flashbacks, It's the garage scene y'all you know what to expect, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-DMC5, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vergil is trying, discussion of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Girl/pseuds/Forest_Girl
Summary: Nero thought that he had most of his issues figured out following the Qliphoth’s fall.He was wrong, of course, but it didn’t hurt to dream. At least, not until he was confronted with said issues head-on.
Relationships: Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 113
Collections: Spardacest Server Fics and Art





	Need a Hand

**Author's Note:**

> For Eyenoom on Discord!
> 
> Brief warning before getting into this: this fic contains a flashback to the garage scene from DMC5! If you’re not comfortable with that scene being described from Nero’s perspective, skip the three paragraphs that are all in italics, right after “right arm—”
> 
> EDIT: bkaljadlkf I'm an idiot who forgot to mention the prompt OTL. "Vergil/Nero - Nero doesn't like it when Vergil touch his arm (Post DMC5)"

Dante and Vergil’s return lacked any of the usual fanfare and bloodshed they flaunted. Instead of one of them falling through a glass ceiling with guns drawn, or another demon tree tearing through a city, Nero got a phone call after he finished a job on the mainland. 

It was so mundane that it didn’t even register as something special. He picked it up and said, in his cheery ‘I’m interacting with a client, Nico, so don’t curse up a storm or cause an explosion’ tone, “Devil May Cry,” waiting for the person to give the password.

“Hey, kid.” Hearing Dante’s voice through the speaker nearly made him drop the phone in surprise, frantically jamming the speaker button so that Nico could hear (though he covered her mouth with his hand so she wouldn’t start hurling insults). The older hunter sounded exhausted, yawns periodically interrupting him. 

“Sorry,” He apologized after the fifth time. “We got back yesterday and passed out. I just woke up and figured I’d let everybody know.”

“It’s fine,” Nero laughed. “Didn’t exactly expect you to be at a hundred percent after being gone for a year.”

Dante whistled. “A whole year, huh?” He then decided to extend an olive branch, so to speak. “You must be itching to see us again then, huh? Mind coming over sometime soon?

Nero tensed, his lips pressing into a thin line. He was happy they were back, alive and whole from the sound of it, but… seeing Vergil again wasn’t something he’d planned for. He couldn’t imagine it being anything but awkward and stilted, especially since their last encounter consisted of beating the shit out of each other.

Before he could say anything, Nico licked Nero’s palm and he jerked away with a disgusted noise. He opened his mouth to tell her off (god _dammit_ he’d just killed a bunch of demons, what if he had some blood or some other demon fluid on him and she just swallowed that shit?) but she snatched the phone out of his hand and said, “We’d be _delighted_ to show up to kick his deadbeat ass again!”

 _“Nico!”_ Nero lunged for the phone, but she dodged away with a laugh, placing her foot in the center of his chest while she lounged in the driver’s seat.

To Nero’s relief, or maybe his misery, Dante laughed. “And I’m sure Vergil would love a rematch. I know I do. See you two soon.”

“Wait, Dante—” The line clicked off, the dial tone blaring through the van. Defeated, Nero slumped back in his seat, covering his face with his hands. “Nico _why.”_

“Aw c’mon, like you don’t want to see ‘em.” Nico placed the phone back on its hook and started the van. They weren’t that far from the office, only about an hour’s drive away without breaks. “I’ll make it easy for you! Break the ice, throw out a few insults… y’know.”

 _“Please_ don’t insult Vergil. I don’t want him to stab you.” Because he would. He _definitely_ would. He’d probably stab Nero too, maybe do a repeat of the garage—

Nero swallowed, the fingers on his right hand twitching restlessly. He shook out his arm, trying to get rid of some of the nervous energy that suddenly pooled in his stomach. 

“Alright, I’ll try to use my non-lethal insults.” Nico rolled her eyes, unaware of Nero’s thoughts pulling out onto the street. “I got a whole book of these things prepared.”

“A whole book, huh.”

“Yeah! Well, not _all_ of ‘em were meant for your old man. Most of ‘em were for me if I ever met my shit-eatting daddy.” Nico’s expression soured briefly before she turned to him with a bright smile. “But now I can use that material for you! Nothing like recycling, y’know?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nero said with a tense jaw, clenching his hand into a fist. He was fine, he knew that, but his stupid hand needed a reminder, apparently.

Nico glanced over, riding easily for once instead of keeping the gas floored. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Nico clicked her tongue at his non-answer and, to Nero’s surprise, flicked the blinker on to pull over. Without thinking, his hand shot out, grabbing her arm. He forced himself to smile, digging his nails into his thigh. “Seriously, I’m okay. Let’s go see Dante.”

Nico frowned, but turned the blinker off, keeping a reasonable speed as she carefully drove through the tight streets. “Just say the word, and we can leave, okay?”

“Yeah.” Nero shoved his hands into his coat pockets, glancing at his reflection in the side view mirror. He looked paler than usual, his eyes a little wild, and him arm still tingled with phantom pain, but… it would be gone before they got to Devil May Cry. He was sure. “Thanks, Nico.”

“Anytime.”

The rest of the drive was silent, Nico focused on finding their exit and Nero trying to get himself under control. He could hear his demon growling with discontent, Dante and Vergil’s energy slowly edging onto his senses. He felt like he was heading towards the Qliphoth’s peak to fight Urizen again, except this time, he had a pissed off demon that was more than ready to throw down.

Meanwhile, Nero was frustratedly telling it, over and over again, that they _weren’t_ going to fight. Not only would it be a bad one, seeing as they were all exhausted , but he wanted to just… talk, maybe. Figure out who his father was when he wasn’t trying to conquer the world. V had given him a decent idea in hindsight, but so did Urizen. And their fight to the sort-of death. And so did getting his arm ripped off—

Nope, not thinking about that. _Not_ thinking about that. Nero took a deep, shaky breath, willing his hands to unclench and press flat against his stomach through his coat pockets. He was fine, he was _fine,_ he just… needed to breathe.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice the van had slowed to a stop. He did notice that had Nico turned off the engine, the little charms on her keychain jingling as she pulled the key out of the ignition. Nico looked at him, her expression oddly seriously. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” Nero’s voice cracked, and he flushed in embarrassment. He wasn’t a kid anymore, god dammit. He shouldn’t be _scared._ He cleared his throat and tried again, his voice steady this time. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He got out of the passenger seat before Nico could interrogate him, rounding his chair and exiting. The air buzzed with demonic energy, lax without any nearby threats, but there regardless. Humans wouldn’t notice anything, but it was impossible for Nero to ignore with his demon on such high alert. 

Nero bounced from foot to foot to shake off his nervous jitters, only to startle when Nico placed her hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure you’re—”

“I’m _fine.”_ Nero moved forward and brushed off her hand, though not unkindly. He didn’t want her to worry, but… he wasn’t so sure he was doing that well. “C’mon, let’s go in.”

The doors were deceptively light, swinging open easily with a light shove. There was a faint rattling noise coming from the walls and, for a moment, Nero thought he pushed too hard and had damaged the office. 

Nero wisely decided he didn’t want to know what the rattling was, and moved further in.

It wasn’t hard to find Dante, the lazy bastard sitting at his desk, legs propped up and crossed in front of him, a magazine thrown over his face. He jerked up, the magazine falling with a slight clatter as he met Nero’s gaze. “Well damn. When I said come visit, I didn’t expect you to show up _now.”_

“We were wrapping up a job the next town over.” Nero explained, Nico’s footsteps echoing behind him. If the air outside felt like a light buzz, then being in the office felt like sticking his head into a hornet’s nest. He took a deep breath, only to nearly choke as he inhaled a lungful of dust and smelled the stench that rolled off Dante in waves. “Guess when you said you passed out, you weren’t kidding. Couldn’t imagine sleeping if I smelled like that.”

“Good to see you too, kid.” With a surprising amount of grace, Dante curled his legs back and managed to rock the chair forward before it could fall back. The older hunter rubbed at his eyes, mouth opening in a wide yawn. “You’re definitely a sight for sore eyes kid. Especially you, lil Goldstein.”

Nico chuckled, walking around Nero to make her way to the desk. Nero would be willing to be all the money he got from his last job that she was blushing. “W-Well, I’m glad to see you’re back.” Nico sniffed the air, then took a step back. “Definitely could use a shower, though. Hoo-wee!”

“Hey, I had to sleep! You have any idea how hard it is to get some rest in the Underworld, let alone find a shower?”

“Then why don’t you take a bath _now?_ Nero ‘n I can wait, maybe get some decent grub while we’re out.”

“I would, but a certain _someone_ wants to use up all the hot water!” Dante’s voice rose to a shout as he tilted his head back and, a second later, the vague rattling he’d heard before quieted.

Dante also seemed surprised, letting out a small huff. “Guess he’s done.”

“Vergil likes long showers?” Nero blurted out.

“Yeah, the dick.” A door upstairs creaked open, fluorescent light leaking out from the hall down the stairs. Dante looked over his shoulder, face set in a pout. “You do realize that I’m the one who has to pay for the water bill, right?”

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” Nero shivered as he heard Vergil’s voice, his body tensing further as the floorboards creaked.

“Newsflash dumbas, I don’t have any money. It’s a side-effect of being gone for more than a year and not getting paid for all my good, honest work in Hell.” Dante rolled his eyes, standing from the desk.

“And considering that I was the one who paid your last bill, allowing me use of your shower is the least you could do. Besides, I told you I could do it on my own.” Vergil sauntered forward, a towel thrown over his head as he dried his hair. Nero couldn’t help but stare, surprised with the… incredibly _normal_ choice of clothing. His intricately sewn coat was gone, as well as his layered vest and fancy-looking boots. Now he was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, the bits of exposed skin he had a slight sheen from the water.

“Just tell me there’s some hot water left for me? The kiddos says I stink, and I gotta agree. I don’t exactly smell like freshly picked roses.”

Vergil pulled the towel around his neck, and Nero felt his heart stop. Before, after Urizen and V returned to themselves, it was hard to see Vergil being related to Dante, let alone his identical twin. With his hair down like this, Vergil really did look like Dante. A grumpy, clean-shaven Dante, but still.

“There should be, if you hurry.” Vergil slicked his hair back into is usual style, which made Nero feel only marginally less uncomfortable. His eyes landed on Nico and he nodded, acknowledging her presence. “Nicoletta.”

“Deadbeat.” She sneered, crossing her arms and sticking her nose up at him.

Vergil snorted, then turned his attention to Nero. His eyes were cold and seemed to reflect strangely in the poor light of the office, and Nero felt like a gazelle being eyed by a lion. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and it was a struggle to stay still and not fidget under his… _father’s_ gaze.

The tension hovering between them broke with a _very_ forced cough from Dante. He stood from his desk hastily, crossing the room and draped his arm around Nico’s shoulders. “Actually, if my memory isn’t shot to hell, the ladies mentioned that you have a shower in the van, right Nico?”

“Uh…” Before Nico could give a proper answer, Dante was half-guiding-half-dragging her to the doors. To her credit, tried to dig her heels in and stop Dante, but there wasn’t much she could do outside of elbowing her idol in the crotch. “Yeah? But—”

“Cool, so I’m gonna shower in there where the hot water is guaranteed and you’re gonna show me how the shower works. Have fun you two! Don’t break my shit!” Dante called over his shoulder as he pulled Nico outside. She and Nero exchanged a confused, panicked look before the doors closed behind them.

Leaving Nero alone with Vergil without a half-way decent excuse to follow after them.

God _dammit._

Vergil took a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips together. “He is… infuriating on the best of days.”

Nero let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Yeah, he uh… he’s been like that since we first met.”

“Some things never change.” Vergil said a wistful note in his voice, slowly descending the stairs. “I suppose he was always someone who had the best intentions at heart, despite the complete lack of tact he uses to execute it.”

“Yeah?” Nero took a step back, maintaining some distance as he carefully watched Vergil. He shouldn’t be this paranoid, especially since Vergil was wearing the most casual outfit possible, but

“Yes. Dante insisted we have a conversation before our rematch.” Vergil stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his expression flat as he stared at Nero. “And given how much Dante needled me in Hell over my actions, I’m assuming that you wish to do the same.”

Nero bit his lip and looked at the door. He wasn’t wrong: Nero wanted to yell at Vergil and know what happened that led him to do what he did, but he also wanted to be comfortable around the twins and have this family. To do that, they had to talk about… well, a lot. Too much, really, with no easy topics on the list.

But.

“Maybe I should tell Nico to pick up some food or something.” Nero carefully turned around and started to leave. “The engine needs to be on for her to get hot water, so she might as well go and get us something besides rotten pizza to eat.”

“Nero—”

“I mean, the food in Hell can’t have been good. Dante’s probably dying for a pizza, and I could go for some Italian food too. Nico might want some crappy fast food but that’s easy enough to get—”

Vergil growled, and Nero’s demon pinged off a warning just before a hand wrapped around his right arm—

_The shelves broke as his back slammed into them, cans and miscellaneous tools falling to the floor with a clatter. A thick, coppery scent filled his nose as he tried to get up, but his hand slipped underneath him, and he collapsed on his right side, lightning-bright pain sparking up his arm._

_The barrage of stimuli translated into a vague sense of confusion, and Nero forced himself up, digging his nails into the concrete floor of the garage as he glared at the hooded figure. The man—demon? Had to be, if it was strong enough to throw Nero into the wall, but there was something laced into his scent, something that made it seem_ wrong, _even by demon standards—coughed and looked at something in its hands. Something dark, with blue, glowing veins, a thick scaley hide—_

_His arm. The demon was holding his arm. He tried to clench a fist with his right hand, as if to prove to himself that this was a dream, but the signal ended abruptly just above his elbow. Gathering what courage he could, Nero looked down, seeing his jacket and the floor stained crimson because his arm was gone, his arm was gone, hisarmwasgone—_

—Nero panted, energy crackling around his body before fading abruptly. His legs shuddered, then collapsed, his kneecaps slamming against the floor. A thin layer of cold sweat covered his body. Red Queen clattered to the floor beside him, his hands suddenly weak.

Through blurry vision, Nero looked around, feeling the blood drain from his face as he realized the office was _wrecked_. There were fresh slashes covering the walls and floor, splinters scattered across the ground. A pool table, which had been off in the corner when Nero entered, was now cut into several pieces, piles of white dust littered with colorful shards laid around it from the destroyed billiard balls. Dante’s chair and desk were knocked over, the various items that were on top now scattered across the floor.

“Fuck.” Nero wheezed out, running his shaking hands through his hair, grasping the short strands for stability. _“Fuck.”_

A dismissive huff across the room made Nero jerk upright. Vergil stood on the opposite side of the room, currently crouched in his demonic form. His wings were angled up towards the ceiling, his barbed tail swaying behind him as Yamato was held up in a defensive position. He spoke through serrated fangs, his voice dual-layered and dismissive. “Have you calmed yourself? Or are you still throwing a tantrum?”

“Shut up.” Nero aimed for a firm tone, but it cracked halfway through ‘shut.’ His cheeks burned with embarrassed anger, and he felt like a child—scared and angry, without a way to talk back without exposing how weak he really was.

Oh, sure, he didn’t throw a tantrum, he just blacked out. He would yell at Vergil for calling it that, if he was sure that his voice wouldn’t tremble, or if he could remember what he did in the last few minutes.

Vergil sighed and dropped his trigger, demonic energy swirling and fizzling out in waves around him. With practiced ease, he sheathed Yamato, holding it as his side as he started towards Nero.

Fear flickered through Nero’s chest, and he let out a weak growl before the sound devolved into a cough. Energy crackled over his skin, only for it to fizzle out. He was exhausted, whatever reserves of energy he had from before were drained during the fight, and he was so fucking done with himself, with _all_ of this.

Vergil echoed his growl but stopped, maintaining a few feet of distance between them. “I am not going to harm you, Nero.”

“Sure.” Nero said, shakily getting to his feet. He probably looked like a newborn fawn, his legs trembling as he leaned on Red Queen to keep upright. “I totally believe you, especially considering the first time we met, you amputated my arm and left me to bleed to death.”

Vergil’s jaw tensed, and it took a few seconds for him to think up a response. “You were not in danger. Your demonic blood would have saved you—”

“How could you have known that?” Nero shouted, eyes welling with tears, the smell of ozone filling the air between them as Nero struggled to gather enough energy to trigger. “You just wanted your fucking sword and didn’t care who got in your way! What if I wasn’t part demon? What if Kyrie and Nico weren’t there to get me to a hospital? I fell into a coma! You nearly killed me!”

Nero breathed through his teeth, taking a few steps back as his legs collapsed once again, the very last of his strength depleted as he held back his tears. He wouldn’t let Vergil see him cry, he _wouldn’t._ The bastard didn’t deserve to see him this weak after everything he’d done.

But, as the seconds dragged on, nothing happened. Vergil didn’t draw Yamato from its sheath or berate him. Instead, he took a step back, then another, before sighing and lowering himself to the ground to sit across from Nero, placing Yamato in his lap.

“What… are you doing?” Nero asked, eyes flicking between the katana and Vergil’s somber expression. 

“I am not…” Vergil hesitated, seeming to struggle with his words before finally spitting out, _“Good_ at this. Dante always grasped the intricacies of humanity better than I.”

Nero quirked his brow. “Really.”

“Even as V, I struggled.” Vergil continued, perfectly proving his point as Nero’s sarcastic tone flew over his head. “But, even with this… weakness, I do understand there are things that stay with one long after they happen.”

“Oh.” How was he supposed to respond to that? “That bad, huh?” 

Kill him, fucking kill him, Nico needed to walk through the door and kick him in the head, or he needed a Chaos to burst through the wall and steamroll him, because he couldn’t have given a _worse_ response.

Vergil, thankfully, ignored his completely stupid response as he tenderly held Yamato, brushing over the spot in the sheath where she had been split in two. “Hell is just as unkind as you’ve been led to believe, perhaps even worse. Wandering for so many years forced me to suppress my own memories and focus solely on survival and returning to the human world. 

“It was only recently, with my mind and body restored, that I experienced them.” Vergil’s expression darkened. He lifted one of his hands from Yamato and stared intently down at his palm. “The nightmares, the paralyzing fear, my demon awakening to try and protect me from an unreal threat. I’d wake, terrified to see my body crumbling to dust, that everything that happened was simply a vivid dream. I’d be trapped in my own mind until Dante would pull me out.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to accept comfort that easily.” Nero commented, if only to try and lighten the uneasy atmosphere between them.

Vergil chuckled. “It wasn’t exactly comfort. My demon perceived a threat and, with Dante being the closest aggressor more often than not, we would fight until he either submitted or I ran out of energy.”

“Typical.”

“There isn’t much that talking can do for a demon driven purely by instinct, determined to eliminate any and all threats to its survival.” Vergil gestured at the damage littering the office. “Case in point.”

Nero felt blood rush to his cheeks and scratched his nose. “So… what now?”

Vergil hummed stood, holding his hand out, palm facing up, his fingers lax. “I would suggest attempting to hold my hand, first.”

Nero’s eyes flicked between Vergil’s eyes and his hand, tentatively reaching out with his left hand, only for Vergil to ‘tsk.’ “Your right hand, Nero.”

And—he could do that. In theory. Just… grab Vergil’s hand. Maybe even just put his hand in Vergil’s. With his right one. Compared to taking out Riots and Angelos, this should be a walk in the park.

Except, all he could think of was what would come after. Vergil tightening his grip. Vergil trying to pull him up onto his feet, because that’s what holding out a hand for someone on the ground _meant._ And he just—

~~_his arm was gone his arm was gone his arm—_ ~~

Nero shook his head. “I can’t—later. When I’m not… later. Maybe. I don’t…”

Vergil left his hand outstretched for a few seconds before pulling back, resting it on Yamato’s tsuba. “Very well, we can work on that going forward. Come, let’s see if Dante has anything in his sorry excuse for a kitchen. Keeping your energy up will help you recover your strength quicker.”

Vergil turned on a dime, his steps silent as he walked towards a back room of the office. He stopped at the entranceway when Nero did not immediately follow, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Are you coming?”

“Why are you doing this?” It was a fair question, seeing as Vergil didn’t come off as the type of person who did things that didn’t directly benefit him. Helping Nero (and that was still a weird concept—Vergil _helping_ him) would probably be a waste of time for him.

“Our lives have been filled with strife and poor decisions.” Vergil looked away. “And… I would not like for you to continue down that road when I can take an active part in changing it for the better. I’d like to believe I’ve grown past my power-hungry ways into something… better.”

Nero rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d think up the most dramatic way to answer that.”

“Did you not pay attention to a single thing I did as V?” Vergil entered the kitchen, raising his voice as the pipes rattled, the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. “No matter. We can become reacquainted with one another as we progress.”

Nero snorted, hopefully too quiet for Vergil to hear, as he followed him into the kitchen, his right hand still at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this feels so weirdly timed with VoV’s latest chapter lmao.
> 
> I really wanted to make this kinky, I _really_ did, but neither muse was up for it. Plus, I’m not super experienced writing VerNero’s relationship, especially since there’s very little canon material to go off of and enough emotional baggage between these two to fill up a 747 and I didn’t want this to end up too similar to my prior VerNero stuff, so this stays firmly in the teen category with no sex, but a lot of sort-of hurt/comfort. 
> 
> Still, I'm satisfied with what I ended up writing! I hope you enjoyed it as well Eyenoom!


End file.
